


Offerings

by Iben



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:41:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iben/pseuds/Iben
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Bane once dreamed of something better for John. </p><p>An AU based on the premise that John was the child in The Pit with Bane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offerings

John can move freely throughout the prison. Bane's protection has a far greater reach than his physical presence. It has always been like this, although John has heard a few stories about how Bane broke a few men's bones in the beginning, when they tried to lay a hand on him, but he was too small then to be able to remember it now. 

He isn't as small as he used to be. There are narrow passageways and hiding places where he no longer fits, but he is still much smaller than most of the men who live here. He is good at sneaking about and has spent quite a lot of time spying on the occupants of the prison. Sometimes he watches the prison-wives as they do their chores. Sometimes he watches old men playing cards. 

He's seen far more interesting things than that, though. He didn't think so before, it was just weird then, but now it's wildly fascinating. The grinding and the grunting. His own dick swells when he watches those things.

He discovered quite a while ago how good it feels to wrap his hand around his dick and stroke it until it spills on his fingers. Bane always gets up when he does that, leaves him by himself on the mattress and busies himself elsewhere in their cell. 

But Bane does it too. John knows this. And he's seen him with one of the whores, burying himself in the other man, a look of concentration on his face. Bane doesn't know that John has seen, because John is so good at sneaking about that he can hide even from him. 

It's cold in the evenings now, winter, and they go to bed earlier. Most people do, to save firewood. Under the blankets it gets warm even without a fire. John lies with his back against Bane's chest, Bane's arm around him. John tries to get as close as he can, because Bane is warm, while everywhere else is cold. 

“Lie still,” Bane eventually says. 

John does. He can't get any closer anyway. He can feel Bane's junk against his ass, sort of soft and spongy, through their clothes. His own dick is hard. Bane's arm is wrapped around his stomach and if he would just lower it a little he would feel it. 

John stares out into the darkness. If he hadn't seen Bane, maybe he wouldn't think about it, but now he does. He wants Bane to do that to him. 

He presses his ass against him, then wriggles a little. Bane's hand finds his hip and holds him still.

“No,” he says. 

Usually John does what he says. But now he isn't deterred, because his want is so great. Bane pushes him away then.

“I said no,” he says. 

“But why?” 

“You don't know what you're asking.”

“But...”

“Do you wish to sleep in the bed or elsewhere?”

That's a threat Bane has used before, and he follows through on it too, so John has spent a fair amount of nights on the cold, hard stone floor. Even after Bane has fallen asleep he hasn't snuck back in under the covers, because he knows Bane would wake up if he did. 

John falls silent. He lies still. 

**

It's maybe a year later, another winter has passed, when John tries again. He's a little older, a little wiser, and he has come up with a better plan of seduction. He waits until he catches Bane in a good mood. 

Bane can be tender, sometimes, in the privacy of their cell. He pets John's hair and he likes, even though he has never said so but John can tell, when John pets him back, his head and his face, his neck. It's a kind of secret, shared between them. 

This time John lets his hand wander lower. Bane catches his wrist before he reaches his goal. 

“No,” he says, just like that other time. 

“I want to,” is John's reply. 

It's late, but Bane has decided to lavishly leave a candle burning, so John can see him. Bane shakes his head. 

“You don't know what I want,” John says. 

“I know better than you.”

John meets his gaze. His eyes are a dark gray and his eye-lashes long. 

“Everyone already thinks I'm your wife,” John says. “That's why they leave me alone.”

“But you aren't.”

“I could be.”

“No.”

A thought occurs to John then, and it makes him lower his gaze. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” he says quietly. 

Bane is silent for a few seconds. “No, John,” he says then. 

“Then why don't you want to?” 

Bane is frowning. He is still holding John's wrist, but he lets go then and pushes at John's shoulder instead, so that he rolls over onto his back. Then Bane's palm is warm against John's stomach and John's breath catches in his throat. He doesn't have time to think much else, before Bane slips his hand inside his pants, pushes them down and wraps his hand around John's dick. 

John gasps. It feels so very different from when he's doing it himself. Bane's large, warm hand, holding him in a firm grip and jerking him off with sure strokes. It feels great, and the knowledge that it's Bane's hand and not his own makes his head spin. 

He comes quickly, violently, panting. Bane lets go of him then and the air feels cool against his skin where Bane's fingers previously were. Bane reaches behind himself and gets a rag, wipes his hand on it, then drops it on John's stomach. 

John wipes himself off and pulls up his pants again. He looks at Bane.

“Do you want me to..?”

“No.”

John doesn't get it. But he also feels it would be unwise to argue, now that he got this and he so very much wants Bane to do it again. 

**

Life goes on as usual. They share the chores they have to do, washing their clothes and cooking their food. Sometimes they go to the prison library and sometimes John accompanies Bane to the gym, and when they don't have an audience Bane teaches him to fight, with and without a knife. Sometimes they share a fire with other people, sit there and listen to stories and jokes. And sometimes, sometimes, Bane jerks John off when they're in bed. 

He never wants John to reciprocate, though. It actually hurts a little. But John is almost a man now and he understands the world a bit better. He also sees that which Bane doesn't seem to want to see – that no matter how much John works out and trains, he will never be big like Bane. He will never be as strong, or outgrow the need for Bane's protection. 

They have an argument. Bane can't threaten John with a night on the floor anymore, because last time he did John refused. Bane dragged him away from the mattress then, but John simply came back. 

“If you won't have me as your wife, I'll find someone else who will,” John says. 

Bane stares at him. 

It's an empty threat. John can't imagine that he would actually do it. Bane has been his protector for as long as he can remember and long before any other emotions surfaced Bane has made him feel safe, even cared about. 

“I'm not a child anymore,” John says. “And I love you.”

He's read that in a book. Bane taught him to read when he was little. He isn't sure if the sentiment is true or not, can't really fathom the concept, but he says it anyway.

Bane looks as if he has struck him. Then he turns around and leaves, and he locks John in the cell. He hasn't done that since John was little. John remembers it only vaguely. He remembers being alone and scared. And he remembers Bane coming back to the cell, giving him things to eat without saying anything. 

Now that he is about the same age as Bane was back then, he can understand that it must have been somewhat petrifying. If John suddenly got himself a child to care about now, he wouldn't know what to do. Maybe he'd try to raise that child to be like himself, like Bane has done. Except Bane hasn't, really. He's fought every fight for him. 

When Bane comes back, John has gone to bed. Sick of waiting for him. In the corner of his eye, in the light from the fading fire he lit to make himself some dinner, he sees Bane pull his shirt over his head. The expanse of his back and the hard muscles beneath the skin is nice to look at.

Bane comes over to the bed and lies down under the cover. It is quiet for a moment. 

“You want me to take you?” Bane says then. 

John can't determine if it's a rhetorical question or not.

“Yes.” 

“You won't like it.”

John's heart skips a beat, because it sounds as if Bane has changed his mind. And he might be wrong, John might like it, it looks really exciting and the thought of it is exciting.

“I want you to do it.”

Bane puts his hand on John's hip then. He gets him to turn around and John gets up on his hands and knees. Bane pulls down John's pants and John startles when he feels Bane's hand between his ass cheeks, and something feels cold. 

“I got some grease,” Bane says, “but it's not much.”

He pushes his finger inside. It's feels weird. In a way it feels much more private than when he's jerking him off, that he's touching him there. John looks at the worn bed sheet and feels Bane move his fingers inside him. It's a strange intrusion, the feeling tight, but not nearly as much as when he removes his hand and places the head of his cock against John's opening instead. It feels much bigger. It is much bigger, John has seen it. 

“Try to relax,” Bane says. 

Then he pushes the head of his cock in. John gasps and tries to move away, it's instinct, but Bane catches his hip with one hand and his shoulder with the other, and keeps pushing, slowly. It burns. It hurts. John makes some sort of whining noise.

Finally Bane bottoms out, and sheathed inside John's body he gives John a moment to breathe. John feels filled up, and painfully stretched around him, as if Bane doesn't really fit in there, but he is anyway. 

When Bane starts to move John grits his teeth against the discomfort. He hears Bane's breaths and that gives him some sense of pleasure, even if it's of a different kind. The knowledge that Bane is satisfying himself in his body, not someone else's, not some whore's. 

It doesn't feel at all like John thought it would, though, the physical experience of it. It doesn't hurt as much after a while, but Bane was right, John doesn't like it. 

Bane moves behind him, changes the angles of his thrusts. 

“Is that better?” he asks. 

John doesn't see any reason to lie, Bane knows him too well anyway and would see through it.

“No.”

Bane quickens the pace and then he grips John's hips a little harder, pulls him even closer, and grunts when he spills, deep inside John. 

He pulls out and John grimaces, because the sensation is strange. John pulls up his pants and lies down. He is sticky between his ass cheeks. 

Bane soon lies down next to him and gathers him in his arms. The embrace feels somewhat inexperienced, different from touches they've shared before. 

John had hoped it would feel good and it didn't. All the same he feels a grim kind of satisfaction, because he got what he wanted. He wanted Bane to make him his wife, and he did. 

Bane pets his hair. “Maybe you will like it better next time,” he says. 

Next time. They'll do this now, they'll do all sorts of things. John hopes it includes Bane jerking him off, because he does like that. 

“When you were little,” Bane says then, “I dreamed I smuggled you out of here.”

“How?”

“In the dream I put you in a casket, the ones they put the dead in.”

“With a corpse?”

John can feel Bane nod above his head. 

“Why didn't you in real life?” John asks then.

“I was going to. But when I looked into it I made it close enough to the door once, to see. They burn them on the other side. You wouldn't have made it out alive.”

John leans his head against Bane's chest. The smell of his skin is familiar, the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms. 

“I'd rather be here with you anyway.”


End file.
